Breach
by margie311
Summary: Post 3.03 Gail/Nick - A little snippet of insomnia.


**A/N: thanks to rookiebluefan89 for helping me WATCH tonight *L*, to SoWritten for help with title selection. Yes, I'm completely obsessed with this Gail/Nick thing. And I AM still working on the Witness, but I'm in the middle of a move and starting a new job, and oneshots are just easier. Soon, I promise ;)**

* * *

Well, Nick's already about 85% sure he's completely screwed.

Two hours after they get off shift and Gail's lying half on top of him, corn-silk hair fanned out over his chest and she's breathing so quietly. In and out. Far more slowly than anyone should breathe, he's sure, but she's sleeping at least. No stupid-inducing tequila involved.

He won't be sleeping any time soon.

The day was… Not exactly a typical day. Even for a cop. If he closes his eyes, lets the breeze from the window air conditioner puff over his skin, he can still feel it. The instant bunching of muscles under a polyester uniform, and rapid fire movement of eyes and wits as he bounced and shuffled; dodging airborne projectiles, objects hurtling with deadly accuracy. Just for a few brief moments, then and again later, when the five of them were facing off against that gang, Nick's heart was speeding along like a bullet train, wheels screeching along the tracks, his instincts screaming in his ears.

But all that's sort of old hat for him. A familiar panic, then a split-second later, a reaction, coming quicker than he'd ever think possible; his body moving so quickly, it's any wonder he remembers it at all.

No, the thing that's got him worried is that he can feel Gail's heart. It's thumping heavy and slow against his side and under his hand as it skims down her back. She doesn't move, not a single twitch or jerk. She just continues to lie there, completely sure she's safe; trusting him totally in sleep, even if she refuses to while awake.

Not that there aren't a hundred rational well-thought-out reasons for why she shouldn't. He _did_ leave. And he did more than break an engagement. He left her here, alone, under the far too watchful eye of her mother. In disappearing, he'd let Elaine muscle Gail into a job she'd never truly wanted the entire time they were growing up. But the way she was today, the narrowed squint to her eyes, the way her body moved slow and steady, almost like a big cat stalking her prey as she whipped out her baton…

Nick has a feeling that Gail is far more suited to the job than she ever dreamed.

She moves a little, lifts her head a centimeter from his chest, and drops it back down again; fingers flexing against his stomach, a nonsense syllable spilling out over her lips.

A flicker of a smile passes over Nick's face. She still talks in her sleep. A habit she'd had years ago, and apparently had never quite gotten over.

One summer, way back, they used to spend weekends at the lake. Both their families, crammed into a cottage that was a room too small, and the two youngest children stuck together on the pullout. They'd fall into bed, exhausted from the day, from the sun and the swimming and the s'mores, and Gail would talk. Both of them reeking of sunscreen and smoke from the fire, a sort of weird tired trust between them as they dropped off together.

It was that friendship between them that had made Nick afraid the first time. Two months before he got his license and he'd suddenly started getting nervous around her; eying her when he was sure she wasn't looking. The thing he never expected; she was looking back. A sort of dance of glances between them as he wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like to kiss her. His nerves got the better of him time and time again, until one day when her patience finally ran out and she grabbed him by the ears and just planted one on him.

Again, a word slips out. His name. And again, Nick feels that pounding in his chest; a dryness in his throat. A sort of premonition.

Like he's completely and totally unprepared for what's about to happen to him. It's not a feeling he likes. He's spent years learning how to be prepared. Supplies and gear and weapon in the proper place; ready to use, and him ready to catapult into action at the proper time.

And he's spent years steeling himself against the elements, against the enemy. So, after all his training and preparation, Nick swears with every breath in his body that this thing with Gail wasn't instantaneous. That his heart didn't automatically leap in his chest when he saw her in the squad room that first day. Swears that his brain and his muscles and his instincts didn't all fire at the sight of her older and beautiful and curious, standing right in front of him.

But he's never been a very good liar. Not compared to Gail anyway. She'd always played the game between them like an expert, even when she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. He hadn't been good at being impervious way back then, and he clearly isn't any better however many years later. She's spread out on top of his chest, knee hitched up across his naked thighs, and she's heavy. Heavy on top of him, heavy inside him, inside his heart; pressing against him with a sleepy need he can't quite believe. He still can't figure it out; how she can trust him after everything that happened between them.

Nick's definitely not complaining. He wants her; he wants to be beside her as long as he can. There's something addicting in her stare, in the core of steel she has running through her; the way she pushes him away even as she reels him in. Total hot and cold, total frustration and temptation as he chases her through the squad room. And yet, he has that unsettling feeling. Love; old and strong, locked away for years. But woven in between all the memories and the years of really _big feelings_, are threads of fear.

Because it's his turn. He's sure of it.

This time, _she'll_ break _his_ heart.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
